


Sit Up and Take Notice

by speccygeekgrrl



Series: speccygeekgrrl's 2014 Kink Bingo fills [1]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Vince looks better in a dress than I do, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1742921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard doesn't pay attention to Vince's clothing purchases unless or until Vince makes him pay attention. This is a strategic mistake on his part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sit Up and Take Notice

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit late for Kink Bingo, but I have an old card and the rest of the month with a wordcount to meet every day, so... the kink here is crossdressing (no kidding?) and there will probably be a few more of these short little fluffy (hopefully more porny) things this month.

It's enough to have to sit through Vince's displays of his new purchases when he's in the mood to show off. There's nothing on earth that could make Howard ask what's in the bags of his own volition. Whatever Vince has bought, he'll see it sooner or later, and more likely than not it'll make him roll his eyes and mutter about trendiness and fickle fashion and how much better timeless classics are, and if Vince hears that he'll say something snide about corduroy trousers, and that'll put paid to whatever peace they might have found in that particular day. It's not worth it. He knows better than to ask. So when Vince comes home with an armful of bags on Tuesday night, Howard looks long enough to determine that the bags aren't from Topshop, and promptly files them away under things he doesn't care about.

He doesn't realize his mistake until midway through Wednesday.

It's a usual morning-- he wakes up early, showers, has a cup of tea while he's making breakfast and another with breakfast properly, listens to a bit of jazz to get him ready for a long day of boredom minding the shop (Nina Simone today, the aural equivalent of comfort food for him), and heads down to open the shop up no later than 9:30. It is, as usual, completely dead in there all morning long, and he rearranges a few displays just to keep himself busy, rings on rather creepy-looking mannequin hands, a rainbow's worth of feather boas, some genuine Peruvian ponchos. By the time he's organized the ponchos in order of softness, with the most coarse at the back, Vince has deigned to make his appearance, just in time for a lunch break. 

"All right, Howard?" Vince says cheerfully, and Howard glances over his shoulder to make a response and stops stock still but for his widening eyes. Slowly, he turns around, head tilting to one side, and Vince aims a cheeky grin at him and cocks one hip flirtatiously.

He's wearing a sundress. It's not the first time Howard's seen him in a dress, but it's the first time he's worn one so airy, so brief and flowy, tiny straps leaving his shoulders bare, hem barely brushing at mid-thigh. It's blue and peach, a cheerful and delicate paisley pattern, snug at his chest and bursting out into a soft drape that seems to float out when he steps closer. For a second they just stare at each other, Howard stunned, Vince apparently amused, and then Vince echoes himself, "All right?"

"Yeah," Howard manages to say, closing his mouth with a snap when he realizes how far his jaw dropped at the sight of Vince. The details keep coming: bright blue eyeliner that make his eyes look as blue as a gas flame, peach lip gloss making his mouth ridiculously tempting, a silver chain around his neck with a star charm that sits right in the hollow of his collarbone, and-- is that the sound of bells, when Vince steps closer? Is he generating his own sound effects now? No, it's an anklet, Vince has traded in the heeled boots for a sparkly pair of sandals and he's got tiny silver bells wrapped around his ankle. "You look..."

"Yeah?" Vince leans against the shop counter, bites his lip expectantly. The words run out of Howard like water from a sieve, comprehensively gone. So much for being a great poet when the sight of his own boyfriend strikes him entirely dumb.

"Lovely," he manages faintly, and says it again a little louder, "You look lovely." Vince beams, and it's like someone's switched on the lights, how much radiance he pours out into the mundane everyday atmosphere of the shop. 

"Got it yesterday. Like it?" He does a little twirl, and the dress flares out as he spins, and it's not even remotely fair, how effortlessly he can bypass all the higher functions of Howard's brain and leave him stammering and staring like a schoolboy with a crush. 

"It suits you," Howard manages to say, stepping closer, erasing the distance between them because he can't bear to be apart for any longer than he has to. Vince looks positively smug in the moment before Howard kisses him, and it doesn't seem to matter that he's doing exactly what Vince planned on him doing, because Vince may not be the brightest, except when he's actually absolutely brilliant. Yes, perhaps Howard's easily manipulated, but how does that signify when he's being lead into exactly what he wants?

Vince's lip gloss tastes like orange sherbet, and he smells like jasmine and honeysuckle, and his skinny hips are a perfect fit in Howard's broad hands, and he's lovely. For a bright shining moment, everything is lovely.


End file.
